


Ghostly Returns.

by PoisonedRune



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonedRune/pseuds/PoisonedRune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3 years have gone by. Sherlock misses home more than he expected, so he decides to make a visit to 221b and he's received by an unexpected host.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghostly Returns.

**Author's Note:**

> It's a little messy. It switches from Johns POV to Sherlocks. but I doubt you'd get confused - hopefully. :3
> 
> Enjoy x

To John Watson the 3 years felt like eternity. Yet to little Hamish it was normal. He was the only thing keeping John alive. Hamish, little Hamish Holmes. Hamish turned up on the steps of 221b one cold winter morning; this was almost a year after the dominatrix ordeal. There was a note tucked by the little child about a year old, wrapped in a silky white cloth. It simple read: “Hamish” and was signed “IA”. 

Initially, John couldn’t believe it. Did Sherlock really? Did he? He shook off the thought and carried the child in. This child was now under the care of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes and occasionally, Mrs Hudson. That year went by with Sherlock solving cases one after another as his ‘business’ boomed after recovering the Reichenbach painting and John constantly updating his blog on cases and life events. Receiving clients almost every minute, then Moriarty set off alarms all over London; Towers of London, Pentonville prison, Bank of England and then the fall.

Sherlock sacrificed himself to save Johns life. At this point, Sherlock had already grown fond of little Hamish. It hurt his heart even more that he knew what he had to do to save them, Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, John and Hamish. Before all this, for some foolish reason, John had been teaching the child to call him Papa and Sherlock, Father. 

“You do realise he has my DNA. You don’t have to constantly repeat it, he will know it sooner or later,” grumbled Sherlock his nose buried in the newspaper.  
“Ignore, FATHER. Say it, Faaaatheeerrr,” continued John.  
“Faaaaa,” cooed little Hamish pointing at Sherlock.  
“At least he knows what I mean. He’s pointing at you, Sherlock,” said John.  
He peeped up from the newspaper looked over to Hamish and smiled. Sherlock was in denial but he was proud of little Hamish.

The three years weren't only painful to John, but to Sherlock too. He had begun getting dependant of John. John kept him grounded. After three years and a while of figuring things out, he decided maybe it’s time to go home. He made sure it was when John would go to work and around the time Hamish would be asleep and Mrs Hudson shouting at the telly. 

The hallway leading up to the flat feeling hollow and eerie, he could hear Mrs Hudson shout abuse at the telly. He made his way up to the flat and opened up the door quietly. John and Mrs Hudson did some clearing up, the kitchen looked like a proper kitchen, food properly stocked up in the shelves, no microscope, and specimens or severed head anywhere to be found. The lounge neat and tidy no more piles of paper and box filled with files. The smile on the wall was covered with photos and newspaper cuttings of him and Sherlock and some photos of John and Hamish. Hamish he thought, he looked into his room and found no one. So he proceeded to John’s room, where he found a little flurry of black hair buried in the pillows. He walked over to Hamish and sat by his little body. Sherlock placed a hand on his shoulder trying not to wake him up. His hands followed the movements of his sons breathing. Sherlock started tearing up, the last time he cried was when he left his note. He never realised how much he missed home, John and surprisingly, Hamish. He planted a kiss on the boys forehead and then decides to leave when he hears a little shuffle from the bed and turns, but it was just Hamish turning over.

Sherlock is back in the lounge; he stands in the centre for a while and after being overwhelmed by emotions he never quite knew he had, he knew it was time to leave before John got back or Mrs Hudson goes to check on Hamish. As he leaves he hears footsteps behind him. Did someone follow him into 221b? Who? He turns around and sees the little figure of Hamish.

“Father?”


End file.
